


Tales of Angels and Devils

by Macdadivali



Category: Daredevil (TV), Deadpool (2016), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The OA (TV)
Genre: "The OA" AU, Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe, Awesome Foggy Nelson, Awesome Karen Page, Blind Character, Blind character can now see, Brett Mahoney doesn't get paid enough for this shit, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Temporary Character Death, Canonical Character Death, Claire Temple Deserves Better, Claire Temple doesn't get paid enough for this shit, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Everyone Has Issues, Fake Character Death, For Lack Of A Better Term, Human Wade Wilson, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, Matt Murdock Needs a Hug, Minor Character Death, My First Fanfic, No Russian Mob, Nuns, Original Character(s), Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Precious Peter Parker, Spirit Guides, There's A Tag For That, Vladimir Ranskahov is not a criminal, Wade Has Issues, and yes I know these are weird tags, it's a weird show, just a grumpy cab owner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-13 20:36:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9141274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macdadivali/pseuds/Macdadivali
Summary: Missing for seven years, the previously blind Matthew Murdock returns to his home city of Hell's Kitchen. Now in his twenties and somehow now sighted, he brings back with him more secrets than answers surrounding his sudden disappearance.And he can't- or won't- reveal anything.This leaves many of Hell's Kitchen wondering, is his odd reappearance and newfound sight a miracle? Or did Hell's Kitchen unknowingly make a deal with the Devil?





	1. Prologue: The Man on the Bridge (Then Off the Bridge).

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic. I have no clue what I am doing and am terrified.
> 
> This is a Daredevil fic (borrowing a few other Marvel characters as well), set to the basic plot/universe of the Netflix original series "The OA". Major spoilers for the series "The OA" and possibly ones for "Daredevil" too.

Every story starts somewhere. Usually with a finite beginning, such as a birth, a first meeting, or a life-changing realization.

This story, however, starts a little differently than that.

It starts, seemingly innocent enough, with a poorly-shot, phone video of a car ride. The operator of the camera holding the phone in such a way that there are even the obnoxious black bars in the sides of the video. The film starts off with random shots from the back seat of the vehicle, out at various parts of a city, a bridge tunnel, and then a suspension bridge. Images of these go in and out as the amateur cameraman seems to stop and start the filming several times. As if unsure of how to really operate the technology, almost like a child was doing it.

Though the video’s recorder, however young or old they may be, does manage to capture the start of this story. Everything seems to happen at once.

The car is slowed in traffic on a bridge, and car horns are heard blaring in the background, alerting to something in the road. A shift in camera angle reveals what.

A young man, dressed in a ratty white T-shirt and gray sweatpants, is seen frantically darting in front of and between cars. Seemingly not paying any attention to the chaos caused around him.

The camera operator’s voice, a young boy, cuts in clear amidst the other sounds.

_“Mom, Mom! That man -”_

But, this is cut off as a woman’s voice, the mother’s, interrupts along with the continuous sounds of car horns.

_“He’s fine. See? He’s okay.”_   The mother tries to placate the alarmed child.

Though, as she is saying this, the young man runs out in front of the car in a hurry. Not even making sure the vehicle is stopped before doing so to reach the rail of the bridge.

As the man reaches the side of the bridge, the car the video is being shot from slams to a halt, and the screeching of brakes is heard. The car halts to a stop parallel to where the man is at the railing. He is working his way on to the other side as the unseen boy voices as such.

_“He’s going to the other side.”_

_“No, no. God!”_

Cuts in the horrified voice of the mother as she realizes, that no- this man is not fine. He is not okay at all.

The young man turns around, short brown hair is blown wild by the fierce wind on the bridge, and his ragged T-shirt and sweats are even being buffeted by the strong breeze. His hazel eyes seem to lock with the camera in a piercing stare.

_“Don’t! Oh – Don’t look!”_

The mother’s terror filled voice hysterically begs her child, as it seems to set in with her what this man is going to do.

The man’s face quickly turns away from the view of the video, and he faces outward at the other side of the bridge. There, with his back to the camera, he is held on by only where he is balanced on the rail of the bridge, along with his hands on either side loosely supporting him there.

However, the young man does not remain positioned like this for more than a second, as he-

_“He let go...”_

The video cuts to black.


	2. Chapter 1: Three Days Later (In Two Blinks of an Eye).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Can you tell me… how you got those scars?”
> 
> A hand immediately went up towards his back, as if to prevent it from being seen, even though he already knew the cheap hospital gown would have done no such thing. 
> 
> Well shit. This will be hard to answer. He felt his face involuntarily form a grimace with this thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the story really begins.
> 
> Major spoilers for "The OA". Possibly slight spoilers for "Daredevil" as well.
> 
>  
> 
> (I don't own these shows. Suing me will only get you four psychotic cats.)

The first thing that brought him out of his unconscious state, was the insistent beeping of some sort of hospital equipment. The repetitious noise echoed around him and kindled the embers to his world of fire.

The other noises in the hospital, such as the scuffing of shoes on linoleum, shuffling of papers, and what sounded like someone having an asthma attack two halls over, helped clarify that he was indeed in a hospital. If the scratchy hospital linen that felt like sandpaper on his skin wasn’t enough clue already.

Before even opening his eyes to actually look around- a concept that still surprises him at times- the sound of a nervous heartbeat sounded from his right, near the door. About middle aged, female, and average height is what his senses told him about the other room’s occupant. The overwhelming scent of antiseptic informed him that this was most likely a doctor or a nurse.

He started to shift to try and get more comfortable, though a vain attempt because these sheets will always feel like hell to his skin, no matter how he lays. He then forced himself to open his eyes, which felt like they had been super-glued shut by how much effort it took.

As colors and shapes started to fill in parts of his mental world on fire, he could hear the unknown woman’s heartbeat flutter for a second in nervousness before she steadied it with a deep breath. He then heard a voice speak to him, belonging presumably to the woman in his hospital room.

“Blink twice if you can hear me.” Said the tired, but steady voice to his right.

Turning to his right to look at the woman, he found that this was not a great idea as his head swam from the simple movement. He tried to focus on the heartbeat of the woman to ground himself, but having visual input from his eyes skewed this effort, as they whirled around in his head. Forcing himself to work through his overloaded senses, he addressed the woman.

“How long have I been out?” He asked in a rough voice. Probably awhile is what the scratchiness in his throat is telling him.

“Three days.” Came the calm reply of the woman.

Now having a look at her, he was indeed correct about her being hospital staff, as she was dressed in maroon nurses’ scrubs. She had sandy colored hair that naturally fell in waves at the end and framed her exhausted face.

“Did I flatline?” He asked, searching her face and listening to the nervous beats of her heart for any deception in her reply.

“No, hon. You’re going to be alright.” She said in such a voice one might soothe a child with.

Her facial expression looked honest enough, but then again, he hasn’t had a lot of time to judge what an honest or dishonest expression would look like. However, her heartbeat, from what he could tell, was constant, even with its nervous beating.

_So, she must be telling the truth, or at least what she believes is the truth._

He made a quick decision to ask his questions now. While they were the only two in the room, and while she seemed to want to keep him talking.

“Are you sure? Did you read the ambulance records?” He asked while shifting to try and get a better angle to look at her with. Her heart stuttered for a second while he was doing this. Maybe she’s afraid he will fall out of the bed or something, was his flittering thought.

“I did not, but it’s in your chart.” She said with a note of confusion in her voice. “You have severe hypothermia and you’re in shock.” Continued the nurse, the confusion quickly draining from her tone, as she informed him of his diagnosis after a short pause.

“If you didn’t hit the water feet first, you would have smashed up your insides like hitting concrete.” She finished in a blunt tone.

Angling his head forward a tad bit, he could see that his feet were an awful mess of blues and purples. Whether it be from bruising hitting the water, or the near freezing temperature that had chilled them.

“You got lucky.” She continued as he stared down at his damaged feet. The tone of her voice and her steady heartbeat indicating that she truly did believe he survived by luck. She then pressed him with a question, “What’s your name?”

He didn’t reply, as the sudden feeling of nausea hit him. In vain, he tried to curl back to the left in on himself. As if that would aid him and spare him any oncoming questions. However unfortunately for him, the woman- the nurse- didn’t let up with her questions as he was doing this. In fact, she seemed to press harder for answers.

“Do you have family in the area? We need to contact them ASAP.” This was said with a note of urgency fueling it. After all, she did say he was out for three days, and if they obviously couldn’t find out who he was before now – how would they? - then getting the answer straight from him is the easiest way. He’s just grateful for the small mercy that she answered some of his questions before starting with ones that would have probably been asked right from the start if he had a less understanding nurse.

The rustle of fabric and the shifting of worn shoes behind him informed him that the nurse was now moving around in the room. He suddenly felt a looming figure behind him, flickering in his residual world of fire out of his periphery.

“Do you want these -” the movement of blankets and feather-light brush of skin against his feet startled him. She must have been about to cover him with another scratchy hospital blanket, because he turned in time to see her drop the edge of it and her shocked expression.

“No, no, no, don’t touch. No touching.” He sputtered out as his heart rammed in his chest. Talking to her was already too much, he doesn’t think he will be able to handle actual physical contact.

She must have picked up on this somewhat, for she held her hands in a placating, palms-out gesture and took a slight step back.

“Okay. No touching.” Her heart rate picked up as she said this; however, her voice had a clam intonation. A contradiction to the apprehension she was truly feeling.

Then after a beat of silence between them, she started to walk slowly around the bed fully into view, as she tried to keep an even tone asking her next question.

“Can you tell me… how you got those scars?”

A hand immediately went up towards his back, as if to prevent it from being seen, even though he already knew the cheap hospital gown would have done no such thing.

_Well shit. This will be hard to answer._ He felt his face involuntarily form a grimace with this thought.

Though he was spared in the meantime from having to answer this inquiry, as his non-responsiveness, seemed to indicate to her that he would not be replying to that question anytime soon. She sounded to be at a loss as to what to do, for she then helplessly sputtered out her next inquiry instead of pressing the previous question.

“At least tell me your name,” she practically begged, wanting an answer to something.

Determining that it was unfair to the nurse to be ignoring her presence, he acknowledged her with another question of his own.

“Who are you?” He asked, as it was starting to mildly annoy him having to nothing to call her except “the nurse” which he dubbed her in his head. A name to put to her identity would be helpful. He looked at her as he asked this, showing her she now had his full attention.

After a flash of surprise across her face, she answered his question.

“I’m Alice, honey. I’m a nurse at St. Louis Hospital.” Then paused for a second before continuing. “What’s your name?” She questioned again, but slower as if to make sure he understood the question. There was also an unhidden tone of urgency in the way she said this.

He stared off past her, debating on what exactly to tell her. He could practically feel her eyes burning him with the intensity of her gaze, as she was trying to stay patient with him but natural curiosity was starting to take over her body language. Her heart sped up a millisecond when he suddenly looked back at her in the eyes, preparing himself to answer.

He kept an even tone and a steady gaze as he answered her question.

“I’m the OA.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this might have been harder for me to write than the view of the video in the prologue. I think I might have to fix both chapters in the future...  
> Writing a (slightly) anonymous person's POV to build up to their name is a pain. Why am I doing this to myself?
> 
> Please comment and feel free to offer your thoughts. Also if you see any grammar or spelling mistakes, please tell me- I didn't have a beta. I'm just a sorry sap who has to proof read their own work.
> 
> (Story's summary might be edited at some point. Be mindful of that.)


	3. Chapter 2: Bring the Boy Here (He Shall Stay).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He paused it right when the young man locked his gaze with the camera.
> 
> “Oh my Lord.” Father Lantom breathed out as he stared right back at the frozen face of Matthew Murdock. There was no doubt about the women’s claims of sighting the long missing resident of Hell’s Kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for both "Daredevil" and "The OA". Probably more for "Daredevil in this one".
> 
> (I don't own these shows. Suing me will only get you four psychotic cats.)

After Sunday’s afternoon mass was always a busy time for Father Lantom. Whether it be a parishioner wanting to discuss the sermon, or a troubled individual that was only at the church because the fear of the devil snapping at their heels. He always made sure he was available to those who needed guidance. Be it spiritual guidance or lending a listening ear over a latte, Father Lantom was devoted to his calling as a shepherd of the Lord and acting out His will.

This means he was initially not at all shocked when and elderly Hispanic woman came up to him with worry set across her features. It only took him a second to remember who she was, Mrs. Elena Cardenas had come to him a couple times in the past month speaking of troubles in her tenement building. She asked for prayers that the situation be rectified, for it was getting to be hazardous living there. He remembered her mentioning a “ _Señor_ Tully” hiring faulty repairmen that, instead of fixing the buildings problems, smashed holes in the walls before they said they felt “unsafe” in the building and ran off leaving only destruction of the apartments.

After saying a quick blessing to the parishioner he was finishing up conversing with, he then turned to ask Mrs. Cardenas if her living situation had improved.

“Mrs. Cardenas, I hope you have not been having any more trouble with your landlord?” He asked in a warm tone.

“ _Si, Padre. Señor_ Tully has been refusing to send another _reparador_ to fix the damage the others caused.” She said, confirming his suspicions before continuing. “ _Es no importante_ , this is not why I came to you today, Padre. I came because _mi amiga, Señorita_ Mahoney came to me with terrible _información._ ”

“What kind of information did she tell you?” He wondered with trepidation. If this was worse than the already horrible destruction of her home, what could be troubling her even more?

“The Murdock boy, _Mateo,_ has been found.” She said in a grave tone.

“Well surely this is a good thing?” He asked, his confusion only growing along with the sudden news.

“ _No, Padre_. She found him in a _vídeo_ on the computer.”

“A video? How?” He questioned.

Her face grew somber before she started digging through her floral accented purse and pulled out a smart phone.

“ _Mira, Padre._ ” She said as she adjusted her large-lensed glasses and carefully typed something in on her phone with a shaky hand.

After she finished typing on her phone, she handed him the device which was set to play a video from YouTube.

He glanced at her one more time before he hit the play button, but she only nodded for him to start the video.

The video started out with poorly shot images from a car ride, but then he quickly saw what both Mrs. Mahoney and Mrs. Cardenas were shaken by. A young man, one that looked very familiar if you imagined a couple more years added, started running across a bridge as a child and mother narrated what was happening. Hardly listening to the dialogue of the video, and instead focusing on the man trying to get to the other side of the bridge, he paused it right when the young man locked his gaze with the camera.

“Oh my Lord.” Father Lantom breathed out as he stared right back at the frozen face of Matthew Murdock. There was no doubt about the women’s claims of sighting the long missing resident of Hell’s Kitchen.

“ _Si_ ,” she said quietly as he handed her the phone back, “he is still with us though, _mi vecino tiene una hermana_ that _trabaja_ in a hospital _en la ciudad_.” Her Spanish starting to bleed more into her speech than English, as she spoke with increasing worry. “ _El está auqí._ ”

“Do you know what hospital? And do they know for sure who he is?” He asked somewhat dazed by this revelation.

“ _El está en_ St. Louis Hospital. _Y no_ , Bess Mahoney _me pidieron que te dijera_ first _estoy seguro_.” Mrs. Cardenas said in a rush.

“Alright…I’ll contact the Sisters at St. Agnes and tell them what happened. After all, Matthew was still a ward of the state when he disappeared.” He said while trying to figure out how to play this now. It was certainly a complex situation.

As he finished saying this, Mrs. Cardenas grabbed one of his hands with both of her own and gave him a tired smile.

“ _Gracias, Padre. Gracias._ ” She thanked him before turning to leave.

“It’s no trouble at all Elena,” Father Lantom said, using the woman’s first name to convey how much he truly meant this. “We should just be thankful that the Lord was merciful enough to return Matthew to us.” He told her in reassurance.

She nodded once more at him before turning to the large cross with the statue of Jesus Christ on it and crossing herself. After that, she started to walk down past the pews before exiting the church. The sound of her footsteps and the movement of the doors being the only noise in the church.

This suddenly alerted Father Lantom of the vacancy of the room, for he had not realized that the two of them had been the only ones remaining.

“Well, I guess not the only two,” he said aloud as he stared up at the statue of Christ upon the cross adorning the church. In the almost palpable silence, a passage, almost ironically, from the book of Matthew, suddenly popped into his thoughts. It was Matthew 17:17.

_‘O unbelieving and perverse generation,’ Jesus replied, ‘how long shall I stay with you? How long shall I put up with you? Bring the boy here to me.’_

He huffed a small laugh at his theologist thoughts, then looked back at the depiction of Christ.

“It is your will that returned Matthew to us. The rest of us may only wait to see for what purpose.”

The statue of Christ only stared blankly back down at him as he said this.

Father Lantom then crossed himself before heading to the parish’s office. He had some phone calls to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mrs. Cardenas primarily spoke Spanish in Daredevil, but she had English thrown into the mix. I tried to work with this.  
> Also, this was surprisingly my favorite chapter so far to write. Then again, there is never a dull moment with Father Lantom dealing with Matthew "My life's a mess" Murdock.
> 
> I apologize for my (lack of) Spanish skills. Google Translate was used in parts- I believe I got a decent translation, but I would not put money on that.  
> (Also I have no freaking clue if I'm correct with anything regarding who would formally be told what with Matt's reappearance. I'm just making semi-educated guesses. *cough* also for plot conveniences *cough*) 
> 
> Please comment and feel free to offer your thoughts. Also if you see any grammar or spelling mistakes, please tell me- I didn't have a beta. I'm just a sorry sap who has to proof read their own work.
> 
> (Story's summary might be edited at some point. Be mindful of that.)


	4. Chapter 3: Alive and Well (To an Extent)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sister Catherine never forgot Matthew Murdock. Hearing that the boy many presumed dead after years of silence was alive and in a hospital, absolutely shocked her. While she tried to never ruminate on whether he may be alive or deceased after all these numerous years, for it was too painful to consider. She was still genuinely surprised, for the first time in many years, to hear that she would be able to see him alive and somewhat well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry I took so long to update this- I have not given up on this fic! 
> 
> There is an OC nun that was created out of necessity, which will be relatively prominent in some parts of the story (like this chapter for example). So, apologies if you don't like OCs, I am trying to have as few as possible. While none (pun not intended) would have been preferable to me- I tried to make this as bearable for all as I could. 
> 
> This chapter is relatively spoiler-free, but just to be safe:  
> Spoilers for "Daredevil" and "The OA".
> 
> (I don't own these shows. Suing me will only get you four psychotic cats.)

Sister Catherine considered herself to be a very hard to surprise woman. Working in St. Agnes Catholic Orphanage, she has seen many children come and go, each committing their own set of antics during their stay. It was very hard for something to phase her nowadays.

She’s made of sterner stuff, and has been working with and caring for kids at St. Agnes for over twenty-five years. Never having had children of her own, she was able to bond with a number of children for over the years. One might think that having spent so many years working with numerous kids, that her memories of some of them might fade.

No, she remembers every child that came into her care.

So, when she got a call from Father Lantom saying that previous resident, Matthew Murdock had been found, she knew exactly who he was talking about. Many would assume that she only remembered the boy because he was blind; however, that was not what made him memorable to her.

Matthew Murdock stuck with her because of his determination. Always determined in overcoming the obstacles being sight impaired posed. Of proving that, despite being qualified as disabled, he was just as able- sometimes maybe even more capable- than those who are sighted. He was determined to learn and honor his deceased father’s wish that he study hard and excel in school.

Another thing Sister Catherine also remembers quite well, is when he disappeared seven years ago. It had been a horrible night when it was noticed he had not returned from school, despite it then approaching the later hours of the night. She also remembers when he was officially declared a missing person after the police found no signs of a runaway. Which everyone at St. Agnes, from the oldest nun to the youngest toddler, felt a hollow sadness left in his absence.

This sorrow manifested itself differently in everybody, but Sister Margret seemed to be the most drastically affected. This Sister Catherine always found a bit odd, considering the other nun seemed to almost make an effort to not ever interact with the boy. Six months after his disappearance, Sister Margret transferred to another convent in Long Island.

Now, seven years since then, many other children had come and gone, but Sister Catherine never forgot Matthew Murdock. Hearing that the boy many presumed dead after years of silence was alive and in a hospital, absolutely shocked her. While she tried to never ruminate on whether he may be alive or deceased after all these numerous years, for it was too painful to consider. She was still genuinely surprised, for the first time in many years, to hear that she would be able to see him alive and somewhat well.

Immediately after getting off the phone, she hurried to change out of her dress and habit and into more practical street clothes. She was not going to let such a simple thing as tripping on her skirt keep her away from seeing her lost charge.

After grabbing her purse, she practically ran out into the street to hail a cab. She hadn’t even fully closed the door of the taxi before she was yelling for the driver to book it to St. Louis Hospital.

Eventually when the cab finally arrived at the hospital, the vehicle hadn’t even fully stopped before she was throwing open the door and climbing out. Without even looking back, she threw a fist-full of twenties at the driver, and sprinted to the entrance of the hospital.

She just yelled for him to keep the change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, whew, glad that part is done! Next chapter we should be getting back to Matt, and what's going on with him. 
> 
> Please comment and feel free to offer your thoughts. Also if you see any grammar or spelling mistakes, please tell me- I didn't have a beta. I'm just a sorry sap who has to proof read their own work.


	5. Chapter 4: Couldn’t See Worth Shit (Now is an Entirely Different Matter).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt could do nothing but sit with his mouth agape as he took in the sight of the woman who was the closest thing to a mother he’d ever had. He studied her, her hair, her eyes, her nose, mouth- everything about her which he had never truly seen before.
> 
> Sister Catherine started to slowly move to pull him into a hug. Matt met her half way and could feel the shoulder of his hospital gown grow damp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a longer chapter than the other ones, I hope it makes up for taking longer than some for me to finish.  
> I still haven't given up on this fic! Though, I am working on starting another now- I'm just having trouble getting the first chapter right. 
> 
> Spoilers for "Daredevil" and "The OA".
> 
> (I don't own these shows. Suing me will only get you four psychotic cats.)

Matt was laying down and staring at the ceiling of his new hospital room. He would have preferred to just closed his eyes and relax into the dark inferno of his previously unsighted world. However, the nurse, Alice, was sitting in a chair across the room writing something on a clipboard, while she essentially babysat him. Matt was forced to give the impression of being alert, lest the doctors and nurses think he’s crazier than they already seem to. He had tried earlier to close his eyes and bask in his familiar world on fire, but he could hear the heartbeat of his current babysitter speed up in worry. It’s not like he could easily explain to them that he had been blinded at age nine, and could now suddenly see with perfect vision, without immediately reserving a spot in the psych ward for himself.

So, Matt was stuck having to study the ceiling tiles, while he tried to listen to the doctors and nurses in the hall for some information as to what they are planning on doing with him. Unfortunately, the only thing the nurses have to say about him are comments on his looks, which are not useful unless he was looking to stroke his ego.

While listening to one of the nurses tell a rather interesting story about how she had to help get a man’s arm out of a meat grinder, Matt heard two heartbeats that seemed distantly familiar. They were not ones he had heard in the last few days, or hell, even years. He attuned his attention to the heartbeats which seemed to be getting closer, and the conversation those individuals were having along with third person.

“…in fact, who you think he is, you should know…he has very unusual scaring on his back.” Came the voice of one of the hospital staff he had heard over the last couple days.

Judging from her description of the patient she was talking about, Matt could say with good certainty she was talking about him.

_Highly doubt any of the other patients have a mutilated back._ He thought sarcastically.

“The nurse said it’s difficult to look at.” The woman’s voice continued. “He won’t talk to anyone, including the police, about what happened. It’s our professional opinion that he be committed to in-patient care.”

_Yeah, fat chance that’s going to happen._

He was not planning to stay here any longer than he needed to. Signing out AMA was starting to look more and more like the only way he’s get out of the hospital soon.

Matt was broken out of his thoughts when one of the two people whose heartbeat was familiar started to speak.

“Excuse me. Excuse me. Can we just see him please?” Stammered a somewhat familiar older man’s voice.

The voices grew silent, and it was only then that Matt realized how close they were. He heard their footsteps stop outside the door, which was opened not a second after.

He was met with the sight of one of the nurses he has seen during the last few days. Behind her was an older man who was significantly balding, whatever hair that remained was a silvery gray. He was dressed in a dark blue button up shirt, which was tucked into a pair of slacks. Next to him was a woman who looked about ten years older than the nurse stationed in his room. She had her graying dark brown hair pulled into a tight bun, and was wearing a simple gray cardigan over a white t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

Matt could hear the newcomers’ heartbeats speed up at the sight of him. This did not make it easy for him to try and identify them based on their heartbeat anymore. The visual sensory input was no use to him, in fact, it was making it more difficult to rely on his other senses. He could practically hear Stick scolding him for getting sloppy.

Recognizing that all the room’s occupants were looking at him to respond in some way, Matt broke the silence.

“Who are these people?” He asked the nurse who just entered the room, as he started to sit himself up.

The other nurse, Alice quickly sat up after he finished saying this. She shot the other nurse a look of apprehension. However, the other two non-hospital staff individuals stared at him. The woman looked close to tears when he aimed his gaze at her. She then started forward into the room.

Matt stared at her with growing anxiety as she got closer and closer to the bed, and to back up into the headboard as she reached the bed. His brain was screaming at him to not let her get any closer to him. The sound of his own frantic heartbeat was booming in his ears, making it next to impossible to hear anyone else’s.

The woman was now sitting on the bed. Matt could feel himself tense up and his breathing pick up in a panic. It was then that the mystery woman reached for his hand, that he didn’t realize was so close to her, as if to sooth him. Matt jerked his hand away and tried to ignore the hurt expression on her face.

That’s when the thought hit him- her face. He might remember the feel of her face.

With that thought, Matt slowly closed his eyes and reached forward. Basking in his familiar world of fire for a second, he then put his fingertips to her forehead to make a tactile observation of her facial features.

At some point, the woman gently took his hands and guided them. Since he felt more confident due to the familiarity of his flaming interpretation of the world around him, he let her do so without any resistance.

As he touched the visage of the woman’s face, Matt felt an old memory be brought to the forefront of his mind.

_Matt was sitting in one of the chairs at the long, wooden table in St. Agnes Catholic Orphanage fiddling with the strap of his cane. All the other kids had left the table over an hour ago, but Matt remained and was reveling in the pseudo quiet he had at the moment. Of course, it was never truly quiet for him, as he could hear the younger kids playing out in the yard, the wind whistling against the old window shutters on the building, and the chatter of the Sisters two halls down._

_It was his intense concentration on the conversation happening between a few of the Sisters, that Matt didn’t hear her approach._

_“Are you waiting for someone, or just simply enjoying the quiet?” Came the gentle and bemused woman’s voice._

_Somewhat startled because he wasn’t fully paying attention to his surroundings, Matt jumped a bit in his seat and cursed himself for not hearing the usual creaking of the floorboards as the woman had approached. He tuned his senses to focus on the woman before speaking._

_“I’m not waiting for anyone, and it’s never truly silent.” He said in response to the woman’s question._

_He could practically feel the amused grin grow on her face._

_“I guess you’re right about it never being absolutely quiet. But I bet that applies more to you than it does to others.”_

_Matt felt himself give a small smirk at her remark about his hearing. She had no idea._

_“I can’t see worth shit, but my hearing’s spectacular.” He said in a cheeky tone._

_“Watch your language.” The woman softly scolded with amusement. “You might hear better than the rest of us, but that doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t hear. Imagine if one of the other children heard you.” She continued, the amusement never leaving her voice. “It would reflect badly on me if the younger ones started talking like that.”_

_This garnered a laugh out of him. He’s glad she has a sense of humor._

_“Well, I’d be willing to take the blame if I accidentally did that, Sister…?” He trailed off._

_“Catherine, Sister Catherine.” She replied._

_“Matt, Matt Murdock.” He said while extending a hand in her direction._

_She shook his hand, and sat down next to him._

_“Well, Matt Murdock, it is certainly nice to meet you.”_

_“You too, Sister Catherine.” Matt debated with himself for a second before continuing. “May I…err, I mean, if you would let me…Umm…” He stumbled over his words, suddenly nervous. “I don’t know how you look-”_

_She cut him off, thankfully sparing him from fumbling with his words any longer._

_“Would you like to get an idea of what I look like?” She said in a kind, and understanding tone._

_Matt nodded at this, not trusting his words to communicate at the moment._

_With that, she gently took his hands and guided them to her face. He committed this tactile image to memory as he felt her features._

_This is-_

“Sister Catherine?” Came his shaky voice. He opened his eyes to see the face belonging to the features he just felt.

“Matthew?” Sister Catherine said tenderly. There were tears starting to form in her eyes as she spoke. “Matt?”

Matt could do nothing but sit with his mouth agape as he took in the sight of the woman who was the closest thing to a mother he’d ever had. He studied her, her hair, her eyes, her nose, mouth- everything about her which he had never truly seen before.

Sister Catherine started to slowly move to pull him into a hug. Matt met her half way and could feel the shoulder of his hospital gown grow damp.

“Matt?”

He only responded to this by engrossing himself more in the hug. His vision started to blur as involuntary tears filled his eyes. Matt just closed his eyes and let the tears flow freely as he hugged the woman he hadn’t seen in many years.

While the two of them were engrossed in their embrace, Matt distantly registered a conversation happening on the other side of the room. “I don’t understand” A nurse (Alice maybe?) voices. Matt could care less who was saying what right now.

“Matthew, Matt… he’s never seen us before.” The older man’s voice replied. The voice was familiar to Matt, just like Sister Catherine’s had been. Matt tried to place it.

“Seven years ago, when he went missing…he was blind” The man continued. The identity of the man suddenly hit Matt, as the voice and context of what he was saying, stirred up a name.

_Father Lantom, Father Lantom is here along with Sister Catherine._

Matt felt more tears come as he reveled in this thought.

He could hear the other occupants of the room’s heartbeats speed up in confusion, or emotion in Father Lantom’s case. However, this was all background noise to Matt. He was basking in being held in the warm embrace of the woman who filled the role of a mother in his life.

He was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say that we would be getting back to Matt in the next chapter. I just hope I made him believable.  
> Also, yay Matt gets hugs! He needs more hugs. Someone should write to the producers of Daredevil and tell them that.
> 
> Thanks for reading, please comment if you see any grammar or spelling mistakes. Also, please share your thoughts! I would like to know if I am doing this concept justice. Or is my attempt at writing this as strong as an overcooked noodle? I can't read minds, you'll have to tell me your thoughts. Thank you!


	6. *IMPORTANT NOTICE*

So as the title says, this is an important notice.  
I’m going to ease your minds and say I am continuing this story. This is not a cancellation notice, I swore to myself that I wouldn’t voluntarily discontinue a fic. Ever.   
However, I’m likely going to be even sparser in my updates to the story. A big, unexpected, family issue has come up.   
(If you don’t want to read about the issue, that’s fine. Just skip to where you see the * * *)  
So literally less than three days ago, we found out that my grandpa has been diagnosed with Leukemia. We’re not sure which type yet, but my family is already too familiar with this type of cancer considering I had Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (ALL) when I was 2. I’m fine, I’ve been in remission for 15+ years, but it’s typically easier to treat this cancer with younger children than adults. As I said, we are not sure what type of Leukemia it is yet, but no type of cancer is ever good.  
* * *  
So, since there is that issue, and the fact I am an active college student and take a full course load, I probably won’t write much. I have been working on my fics, but I had wanted to have a couple chapters done before uploading any new ones (I am impulsive and typically update a chapter not even an hour after I checked it for errors).  
Thank you all for your support and encouragement in my writing, and I hope whenever I update next, it will have been worth the wait!  
(P.S. – Whenever I update the fic next, this author’s note will be gone and replaced with the appropriate chapter.)

**Author's Note:**

> Should this be continued? Please comment and feel free to offer your thoughts. Also if you see any grammar or spelling mistakes, please tell me- I didn't have a beta.
> 
> (Story's summary might be edited at some point.)


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